


Seasons: A Love Story

by HeadInTheStratosphere



Category: Original Work
Genre: -Ish, I doubt anyone's gonna actually read this, Imma just leave it here anyway, Other, Romance, cringe!!!!!, pinch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 17:28:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadInTheStratosphere/pseuds/HeadInTheStratosphere
Summary: 'All of a sudden,it was neither too hot nor too cold,too bright nor too dark, too loud nor too quiet.For a millisecond, everything was as it should.For that fraction of a moment: the universe was perfect.That moment when my eyes first met yours.'
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character





	Seasons: A Love Story

It was spring.

A beautiful spring day, when I first met you. It was an extraordinarily ordinary day if my memory serves correctly. I walked through the same park as I always did, the trees were swaying gently to the warm zephyrs that enveloped them, the cacophony of birds interjected with trills and harmonies as they pleased, the grass was green and well kept, the pavement was clean and smooth. Ordinary. 

Many faces frequented this park: the single mother with her two children, the elderly couple who were fond of the bench facing the duck pond, the large family who have picnics every Sunday, the businessman who cuts through the park as a short cut on his commute, the teenagers who ride through on their skateboards and bikes... 

This park was a melting pot of all kinds of cultures, status, ages, races, religions. Here, everyone could be who they were, and no one objected. It was loud and rowdy at times, but also had moments of serene calmness.

I listened to my feet as they thudded softly on the lush grass, still damp with morning dew, the echoes of birdsong dance through the park. I smiled as I make my way to my tree. My sanctuary. It was an old tree, its ancient roots interweaving in intricate patterns and burrowing deep into the life giving soil. I knelt on the damp earth, pressing my cheek to its sturdy trunk. I closed my eyes. I could practically feel the life of this tree beating within itself and flowing through its leaves and branches and roots. 

Most days, this early in the morning, no one's at the park.  
But this time, someone was: you. 

I remember the laugh I heard, like tinkling bells, pulling me from one moment to the next.  
My eyes abruptly opened to reveal you and your bright eyes, crouched curiously and twinkling mischievously, nestled in my tree’s canopy.

All of a sudden, it was neither too hot nor too cold, too bright nor too dark, too loud nor too quiet. For a millisecond, everything was as it should.  
For that fraction of a moment: the universe was perfect. 

That moment when my eyes first met yours.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was summer. 

The days were long and bright. You consumed me in a seemingly perpetual light, flooding my every waking moment with happiness. Every day we met at what was quickly becoming not just my tree, but yours too. 

Our tree.

I remember the way we climbed our tree, your bright eyes matching your smile as you scrambled up its sturdy trunk, towards the higher branches. The laughter that fell from your lips urged me upwards, right on your tail. You nimbly leapt from one branch to another, climbing higher and higher, until we reached one of the highest branches. You stopped, panting, your grin growing wider.

I finally caught up to you and perched alongside you on the branch. I looked at you quizzically, confused by our sudden stop.  
You point to a spot further along the branch.  
And just like that, you bounded along the branch with feline grace, picking a small handful of what seemed to be round, pear shaped fruit. You quickly scurry back to my side before excitedly pulling me up to even higher branches.

We burst through the canopy. I feel the blinding sun hit my face, enveloping me in an intoxicatingly warm feeling. You smiled at me and I feel an identical warmth settle somewhere deep inside. I smiled back as you hand me one of the fruits that you picked. Its exterior was a deep, royal purple covered in small hairs, soft and delicate in my hand. 

I bit into the fruit, revealing a fleshy inside of varying deep red and burgundy. It was pleasant, the juice bursting with flavour. 

Sweet.

We stayed there, everyday, basking in the summer sun.

Innocent. Warm. Joyful.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was autumn. 

The park turned into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours.  
Yellows and oranges and reds.

It was addictive: the way the sun’s mild, autumn rays burst through the fire lit canopies, igniting the undergrowth with scintillating stars of red and orange. Autumn was a whirlwind of colour. Emotion. It spun past me in a dizzying array of warm, comforting colours, alive in the crisp air.

I remember the sunsets in autumn. The way we lay under our tree atop and amongst the mounts of fallen leaves that formed a blanket against the damp earth. The golden sun dipped below the horizon. 

I remember the sky seemed more vibrant in autumn. The orange halo surrounding the sun bleeding into a vibrant ruby across the horizon. It climbed to the heavens blending into pinks tinged with purples and midnight blue as it rose into the vast expanse of night.

We sat there, huddled for warmth, watching the sun as it disappeared beyond the point where we could follow it.  
I remember your face as you watched the sun and sky with me. I remember the way the last golden rays hit your face, lighting up your face and making you smile, one of contentment. Happiness.

I remember looking up at the sky with you, watching as it continually darkened, colours mixing and dancing across the canvas. If I looked hard enough, I could see the first stars appear. First small, almost insignificant against the dying sun. But soon, I could see them.

Scintillating. Enduring. Illuminating the early night sky.

Your eyes reflected them. The same persisting gleam: sparkling with an effervescent fascination, a content happiness. 

I fell for you that evening, like the leaves drifting from the safety of the branches, to dance with the throes of life. Floating through this momentary bliss, falling readily. 

But I should have known: from the bitter chill of the wind, from the stormy clouds in the distance, heavy with unshed tears. I should have known that this bliss was too good to last. 

But I didn’t.

And I held on to every leaf as it fell into the oblivion of indifference. 

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was winter. 

We didn’t end in a storm or a blizzard.  
I’m not sure what happened— or that it even matters— but something changed between us.  
Like winter, it didn’t come immediately, we changed slowly— almost imperceptibly so.

Drifting apart. Growing cold. Ice freezing over our hearts.

I remember the last day I ever saw you. There we stood, underneath our tree. A skeleton. A ghost. I don’t remember what was said, or even if there was any talk at all, but I do remember your eyes.  
Usually full of life, sparkling with mirth. 

Cold. 

That twinkle was nowhere to be seen.  
You shake your head.

No.

You turn around and begin to trudge away. 

I remember calling your name. Pleading— begging— you to come back. I remember the panic course through my every vein.

Snow fell.  
The skies opened and wept. Mourning with me. 

But I didn’t chase after you. 

I let you go.

I noticed that although our tree was bare, a single fruit was clinging desperately from its branches. I reach out and pluck it. It fell into my hand without a fight.  
It was different from past fruit. It was a dull brown, deformed and covered in rough bumps. 

I bit into it. 

The skin was stubborn but when pierced, sticky slime oozed from it. Inside, it was a sickly green, the pulps hard and white. The fruit was unpleasant. 

Bitter. 

But I took another bite, revelling in its pungent, biting taste. 

I watched on as you retreat into the long dreary shadows.  
I relished in the bitter taste left in my mouth as you become but a small figure in the distance, disfigured and warped by the snow and wind swirling furiously.

You didn’t turn back.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It is spring.

Another beautiful spring day.  
I walk through the park like I had a lifetime ago. Retracing the steps I had taken that fateful day. 

The park has transformed drastically since that day. What was once busy and bustling with life: Deserted. Abandoned. The quaint swing set that children adored, broken and rusted; the old couple long gone, the ducks soon followed, leaving the pond mossy and muddy; the grass grew almost impossibly long, making it near impossible to walk through; the trees ruthlessly tore out the pavement, leaving rubble in their wake. 

But there was one thing that is more different than all the rest.

Our old tree, our sanctuary. The place of our childhood dreams and adventures. The place I fell for you. The place you turned me away. It was reduced to ruins. Obliterated and destroyed until all that was left was a pathetic stump.  
All the power and majesty it once carried within its strong branches: gone.  
Lost to the wickedness of humanity's ruthless knife.

I come closer and kneel on the damp earth. I press my cheek to its rough stump. I can longer feel the life within the tree. It seemed hollow. Empty. Abandoned. I close my eyes and for an eternity, just sit here. With my old friend. 

In the blink of an eye, the silence was pierced by the sound of innocent laughter, one of small children, like tinkling bells. I abruptly open my eyes to see a small child emerging from the sea of grass, running as fast as their stubby legs would take them. A bigger figure followed them, playfully chasing the little sprite around before enveloping them in a warm hug. The little child dissolved into a fit of gleeful giggles.  
It sounded so familiar, almost eerily so.

I freeze. 

Realisation washes over me, drenching me in its acute enlightenment. The figure lets go of the little child, revealing its identity. 

Yes, 

It’s you.

Your eyes are still as bright as ever, scintillating with that mischief I sorely missed; your smile incandescent, lighting up your face and the child you're holding.

My eyes move to the child in your arms. The longer I look, the more I see you. Their eyes are exactly like yours, orbs full of awe, and their smile, an exact replica of your charmingly innocent grin. And yet, they were different. Their hair, their nose— all foreign. All belonging to someone else. My stomach lurches at the thought. For the briefest second, a life passed before my eyes. A life where the child in your arms would have my hair and my nose and my—

No. 

I feel sick even thinking about it. I couldn't take this pure, uninhibited happiness away from you. Even if my own heart still yearns for your love, like a flower for the first rays of the spring sun, I just couldn't. This child, and the owner of the foreign features they bore, has brought you a joy and love that I could never give you, that you would never give me.  
And just like that, although my heart may never stop loving you, somewhere deep down, I accepted it. 

I could move on.

I watch on, with a rueful heart, as you and your child retreat through the long grass.  
But just before you disappeared through the green shadows, where I would never lay eyes on you again: you pause. 

And turn. 

Our eyes meet, a strangely sweet parallel to a time long, long ago. The complex, passionate electricity I once felt:

Gone. 

In its place: 

A simple acceptance. 

The sparkle in your eye flashed in familiarity.  
You tilt your head in sort of nod.  
No words needed to be shared. 

We both understood.


End file.
